Impressions

The semi-constant theme of my daydreams has been the mind and consciousness, or the lack there of. To accept that we are tied to these physical bodies forces me to concluded that we are dying every second of every day as whatever it is that makes us "ourselves" gets replaced by something new. This is a satisfying, if somewhat depressing, conclusion.

(Here is where I venture somewhere slightly absurd.)

How about if we think of ourselves as something altogether different from a capsule inside our skulls. Let us take the uncertainty of our physical boundaries to an extreme. In this case a person's personality is a finely woven set of memories and tendencies. In my fantasies a BCI would allow for this fabric to transcribed and replicated elsewhere. But what if this is happening to a certain extent already?

When you meet somebody on the street, a little corner of their fabric brushes up against you and makes an imprint. A nervous tick, an obscure analogy. We save these little impressions up for later use in our own patchwork quilt. Know someone long enough and the patch grows bigger.

In this sense every bit of your fabric that you share with others is backed up for later use on the cloud. When you are gone its still there. You can't be erased without erasing everyone you've interacted with.

Edit: I think what I was trying to get at here but may have ineffectively conveyed is the idea that because our individuality is nothing more than our combined experiences and memories then there are not really any rules that confine it to our body and transfer is already happening.